Pain
by BeachBum84
Summary: Oneshot about House dealing with pain.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: This is my first fic. It was inspired by my own struggle to find pain relief the other day. **

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I wake up feeling annoyed. I glance at the tv and notice that the movie I fell asleep during isn't even over yet. It was just a little cat nap. I haven't been sleeping well and I'm annoyed that I can't get more than an hour of sleep at a time. I sigh and rub my right thigh. It hurts a little, I guess that's what woke me.

I reach for the vicodin bottle and I take a pill out. I pause and look at the pill. Maybe it's a sign that I'm really an addict, but I'm really fond of these pills. I like the shape of it, I like the weight of it. It's the perfect little pill. Just to feel it in my hand is comforting. I pop the pill in my mouth and swallow it dry. I even like the feel of it going down my throat. I wonder for a minute if I should be disturbed by these thoughts.

I shake my head in an effort to clear my head and reach for the remote. I flip through the channels for a while, not really finding anything I'm interested in. I'm distracted by a painful twinge in my leg.

I glance at the clock. It's been a half hour since I took the vicodin, more than enough time for it to start working. The pain should be getting better, not worse. I reach for the bottle and take another pill. This time I just swallow it instead of examining it first.

I start to massage my right thigh. I feel very agitated. Vicodin is a painkiller. It's suppose to kill the pain. Why isn't it working? It's whole purpose for exsistance is to kill pain. It's doing a very poor job at it right now. My favourite little pill is failing me.

There's another painful twinge in my leg, worse than the previous one. The pain is just increasing and my agitation becomes anger. I grab my cane and start limping around the apartment. I'm hoping that the movement will help ease the pain.

I make restless loops around the apartment. Walking in and out of rooms with no particular direction. I'm not even thinking about where I'm going. My only goal is to keep walking and to avoid bumping into anything. I just keep walking faster and faster, as if I have to reach a certain speed before the pain will ease up.

The pain has seemed to reach a plateau. It isn't increasing anymore but it isn't decreasing either. It isn't even at a level where I could ignore it. It's beyond uncomfortable, it's above tolerable. I feel as if I want to scream or something but I can't. The scream is caught in my throat because I know it won't help. It's not bad enough to justify screaming, but it's still very very far from being okay.

I glance at the clock as I speed by it. I've been pacing for a half hour. A weary feeling sinks into my chest. I'm very tired of being in pain. This stupid, relentless, meaningless pain. It's not as if there's a real reason for the pain. I could understand if it was my body's way of letting me know that something's wrong, that I need to change something.

I would prefer to have kidney stones over this pain. They say that kidney stones are the worst pain that you can ever feel. It's been compared to childbirth, which I also imagine is better than this pain. At least with that pain, it has a meaning. It's telling you that there is something in your body that has to leave.

With kidney stone pain, you can do something to make the pain go away. Your body can rid itself of the stones. And as bad as the pain may be, there's an end to it in sight. You know that as soon as you pass the stones, the pain will begin to go away.

With this pain. There is no end in sight. There is no goal to reach for. I can't give myself a pep talk like, "Okay, Greg, just 100 more steps and the pain will go away. You can make it 100 steps if it will make the pain go away." I can't even reassure myself by taking pills. I can't say, "Just one pill and the pain will go away." Today is a prime example of how that isn't always the case.

Of course, it doesn't really stop me from trying. I grab the bottle as I pace by the table I had left it on and pop another pill. I keep the bottle gripped in my hand as I continued my aimless loops around the apartment.

Sometimes I worry about how many pills I take. Sometimes I worry that Wilson is right and the pain is a manifestation of emotions that I can't deal with. Sometimes I worry that it's all in my head. Sometimes, I admit very irrationally, I worry that it's a sign of a more serious problem. I worry that the rest of my leg is dying and it will shrivel up and turn black and fall off. I worry about a lot of things I would never admit to worrying about. Pain brings it out in me. Pain brings forth worries and fears.

I glance at the clock. Five minutes since the last pill. I feel my anger give way to panic. I shouldn't panic, it's only been five minutes. I should just wait another five minutes for the pill to kick in. I continue my pacing, walking faster and faster. I glance at the clock each time I pass it. Time is moving painfully slow and panic has gripped my chest.

Five minutes have passed and there's no change. I don't know what else to do. I'm ready to break my hand or something, anything to distract me from this unrelenting pain in my leg. The panic has caused the scream caught in my throat to grow but I'm still unwilling to let it escape.

I just keep walking because there's nothing else for me to do. I can't break my hand, it would be stupid and there's a chance that it might not work. I just keep walking. I can barely think anymore through the pain and the panic. All I can do is keep walking. I start counting my steps in hopes of distracting myself.

Finally, I take a step and a rush of air fills my lungs. I don't slow down my pacing but the event pulled me away from my counting. It was a change in the feeling. For one brief step, there was a change in the pain and it allowed me to breathe that one deep breath. Maybe my body was so relieved by the feeling that it rewarded itself with a deep breath. I don't really understand what happened.

All I know, is that 121 steps later, it happened again. I can't say it was pain free, but it was a little relief from the unrelenting pain. The rush of air may have been me gasping at the feeling. 114 steps later it happens again. 107 steps after that. 111 steps after that. 97 steps after that I actually smile at the deep breath that accompanies the feeling. I'm amused by that involuntary act.

I glance at the clock. I've been pacing for an hour. I'm completely exhausted. The pain is still bad, with a step of relief every 50 steps or so now. I just can't keep this up. I'm weary and sad and hurt. I let myself fall on the couch. I'm still gripping the pill bottle tightly. I sigh and take out another pill. One last attempt to rid the pain.

It's been an hour and a half since the first pill, and hour since the second, a half hour since the third. I should be very blissfully numb but here I am popping a fourth pill. It's pathetic. I'm angry and I'm weary and I'm depressed. Why are things like this? I sit there rubbing my leg feeling almost shell shocked. I don't understand how I can be in this much pain. I don't understand why I'm in this much pain.

I feel frustrated tears forming in my eyes. It's pathetic, it's useless, it's meaningless. I just keep massaging my leg until the pain reaches a tolerable level. I turn on the couch and stretch out, I elevate my leg with a pillow before laying down. There's still a annoying buzz of pain in my leg. It's just a step above a pain level in which I could lay here comfortable. I give up. All I can do now, all I have energy to do now is to close my eyes and try to get some rest.


End file.
